


La Vida de la Luz

by Jenksel



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bonding, Casskins, Communication, Do Not Re-Post To Another Site!, F/M, Friendship, Immortal Problems, Jenkins & Estrella Bonding, Married Casskins, Nicknames, Relationship Goals, Vacations, vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-23 16:31:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20343199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenksel/pseuds/Jenksel
Summary: Cassandra surprises Jenkins with a vacation at a certain holistic spa in South Carolina and reconnect with a familiar face.  Takes place a few weeks after the events of "The Abolitionist".  Kinda talky, sorry.





	La Vida de la Luz

After several long months of hard debate, Eve Baird finally convinced Flynn Carsen that a well-rested team was a much more efficient and healthy team, both mentally and physically. To that end, she also convinced him that all of the members of team—_including_ the Caretaker—be required to take a total of four weeks of vacation time each and every year. When announced at the next weekly team meeting, this news was received with enthusiastic whoops of joy by the three Librarians. The Caretaker, not so much.

Jenkins strenuously protested that, being immortal, he was not subject to the same sorts of stressors or exhaustion as the mortal Librarians were. Besides, he had _far_ too much work to do to go gallivanting off on holiday every few months. He stubbornly refused to submit to the new directive—until his wife, Cassandra, began to whimper pathetically about how she had been looking forward to spending some quality alone time with him without always having to worry about work cutting in and calling her back to the Library. A large tear rolled down her cheek as she dropped her head sadly.

The crusty old immortal’s resistance melted like ice in the noonday sun. He took her hand between his and patted it as he apologized for his selfishness and promised to go with her anywhere in the world she wished at any time she wished. He further promised to leave all work concerns behind so that he could concentrate solely on her.

The moment the pledge left his mouth, Cassandra’s tears disappeared. She beamed up at him as she informed her baffled husband that their first vacation was already planned: They were leaving first thing in the morning, so he’d better go and pack right away. Too late, Jenkins realized that he’d been bamboozled, but, as a knight, he was now bound by his word. As he lumbered grumbling from the workroom to go pack a suitcase, Cassandra skipped happily after him, turning back just long enough to wink conspiratorially at a grinning Eve.

Now it was almost seven o’clock the next morning, and Cassandra could barely contain her excitement as she set the coordinates for the Back Door. When she was finished, she straightened and whirled around to face the tall, well-dressed man waiting for her, two suitcases at his feet and a slightly sour look on his face.

The Librarian had taken it upon herself to plan something special for the two of them, a weeklong getaway to relax and have some fun after a long stretch of work at the Library, but she gave away no details. Jenkins’s reaction had been restrained when she shared her vague plan with him as he packed. After all, as with all couples, one’s idea of fun could sometimes be another’s idea of hell. One had to look no further than that disastrous vacation with Santa a couple of years ago to see the truth of that statement.

“Ready?” she piped, a huge smile on her face. She looked radiant in her light, summery dress patterned with tiny daisies, her blue eyes sparkling, her long coppery hair hanging in soft curls over shoulders. As always, overwhelming love filled his heart, and, as always, Jenkins would deny her nothing, even it did make him a little uncomfortable. He tried to hide his affection, though, by adopting a stern look.

“I _suppose_ I am, especially considering that you’ve refused to tell me _where_ you’re taking me,” he said tartly. His tetchiness only made this whole adventure more fun for her, and the young redhead laughed. Besides, she knew it was all just an act; Jenkins was really just a big squishy teddy bear underneath that grouchy exterior. The doors activated and slowly swung open.

“If I tell you, then it won’t be a surprise, now, will it?” she asked brightly, bouncing over to take his huge hand in hers. She shook his arm teasingly as she grinned up at him. Her excitement was infectious, and not even Jenkins could keep a tiny smile from appearing on his face.

“You’ll love this, I promise!” she said. “Let’s go!” She bent over to pick up her suitcase, and her husband picked up his, then reluctantly followed his wife as she practically pulled him through the magic portal.

* * *

They emerged on the other side into a lush, beautifully landscaped oasis. The air was much warmer here than it had been in Portland, and unlike there, the late-morning sky here was cloudless and a stunning shade of deep blue. Jenkins thought he caught the faint scent of saltwater on the soft breeze. Around them were manicured gardens, koi ponds, open meadows and small stands of trees and palms, all threaded together by well-kept walking paths. Small bungalow-type buildings dotted the landscape. It all looked vaguely familiar to Jenkins.

“Cassandra! _Mi hermana_!” a musical, lightly-accented voice called from behind the pair. As they turned, Jenkins realized now why he felt that he’d been here before: A beautiful Hispanic woman was coming toward them, her hands out and a warm smile on her face as she greeted them, the skirts of her gauzy turquoise dress floating around her legs as she walked, the sun glinting off of the heavy gold earrings and bangles she wore. Cassandra had brought him to the Vida de la Luz Spa, located near Charleston, South Carolina. And it’s owner, and Cassandra’s friend, Estrella Lago Ahumada, was a vampire.

“Estrella! Oh, my gosh—look at you!” Cassandra called out as she rushed to meet the dark-haired woman. The two embraced warmly, and Estrella greeted Cassandra by lightly kissing her on both cheeks, European-style.

“You look great!” exclaimed Cassandra as she stepped back to look over her stylishly-dressed friend. “It’s so great to see you again!”

“_Gracias, hermana_,” replied Estrella, still holding on to Cassandra’s hands as she spoke. “It’s wonderful to see you again, too! I was so very excited and pleased when you called to set up this retreat!” She glanced over at Jenkins, who was standing quietly behind his wife, a slightly uncomfortable expression on his face. He didn’t particularly care for vampires as a whole. In fact, the last time he was here, Jenkins killed a dozen of them single-handedly, though that was out of necessity.

“And here is your handsome husband!” Estrella said cordially, releasing one of Cassandra’s hands and reaching out to the older man, the bangles on her wrist tinkling as she moved, her black eyes sweeping his tall frame. He was dressed in a dark brown, three-piece wool suit, a crisp, starched white, long-sleeved shirt with a tidy bowtie of ruby-red silk peppered with tiny gold diamonds. A thin sliver of dark mustard satin peered from the pocket of his suit coat.

“Welcome to the Vida de la Luz, Mr. Jenkins! I’m hoping that you’ll both have a much more pleasant stay here this week than you did the first time you were here!” greeted the young vampire warmly, taking care to hide a smile as she took in the rather formal attire.

Jenkins stepped forward and, rather than taking Estrella’s hand, laid his own hand on his chest and bowed slightly in a stiff greeting.

“_Encantado_, Señorita Lago Ahumada,” he murmured solemnly. Estrella laughed.

“So formal!” she said looking over at Cassandra. “You were right, _hermana_—he _does_ need some time to relax and loosen up a bit!” At the irritated look that came to Jenkins’s face, Estrella finally allowed herself to smile.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Jenkins, I didn’t mean to offend. Please, call me Estrella. Cassandra has told me so much about you; I’ve been looking forward very much to meeting you and getting to know you better!” She extended her hand again. This time Jenkins took it and shook it gently.

“No offense was taken, Señorita —_Estrella_,” he answered, correcting himself. “Please forgive me if I seemed aloof. Cassandra didn’t tell me where we were going, I’m afraid I was caught somewhat off-guard.” Estrella turned to Cassandra.

“Ah! So this truly _is_ a surprise!” she said. “Wonderful!” She turned back to Jenkins and began to explain.

“Cassandra has arranged for the pair of you to spend the entire week here. Normally, of course, we host only those who are ill and their families, but I have made arrangements for you to stay here in a part of the spa that is not used for our regular guests. I have a small bungalow all ready for you at the edge of the property. It’s very quiet and private, you won’t be disturbed at all.” She paused to look meaningfully at the couple and smiled slyly. “_And_ you don’t have to worry about _disturbing_ anyone else, either!”

Cassandra grinned sheepishly as she realized her friend’s meaning; Jenkins’s cheeks turned pink and he dropped his eyes, clearing his throat as he studiously picked invisible lint from his coat sleeve.

“I’ve instructed the staff that you are to have complete access to all of our facilities and services—food, pools, spas, massages, everything,” the young woman continued without missing a beat. “We even have a lovely bridle path and horses if you’re so inclined. Our meals are all vegetarian and vegan, of course, but Cassandra says this isn’t an issue...?” Jenkins nodded his head in agreement.

“Excellent! And, finally—“ she looked sternly at the pair standing before her. “You are here this week as my personal guests—no charge!”

“Oh, Estrella, no!” protested Cassandra immediately, her eyes widening in surprise. “We couldn’t possibly let you do that!” Estrella held up one small, fine hand to halt further protests.

“Yes, you can, _hermana_,” she said. “Consider it a belated wedding gift! The only possible ‘payment’ I will consider accepting is your promise that you’ll both dine with me at my private bungalow this evening?” The Librarian and the Caretaker exchanged glances, and Cassandra looked back at Estrella.

“All right,” she agreed, barely able to contain her excitement at this turn of events. “We’d _love_ to accept your offer for the week, and of course we’ll have dinner with you tonight! But we don’t want to be any trouble...” Estrella waved her hand in dismissal.

“It’s no trouble at all, _hermana_, think nothing of it,” she said. She turned and indicated a tall young man with a thick thatch of sandy hair who was waiting patiently nearby. “Now, Thaddeus here will show you to your bungalow. He will also be your personal assistant this entire week. Anything you need, any questions you have, he will help you. And, of course, you can always call on me as well, at any time.” She signaled for the young man to come forward.

“My belated congratulations on your marriage, _hermana_!” Estrella said as she put her arms around Cassandra to give her another tight hug. She then turned to Jenkins. Understanding now that he was uncomfortable with being touched by strangers, she refrained from hugging him, choosing instead to take his stiff hand tightly in both of her hers just long enough to give it a quick squeeze.

“May you have nothing but happiness and peace together, Mr. Jenkins! I do hope you will enjoy yourself this week!” she said, her voice warm and sincere, but slightly tainted by a note of regret. “You are a very lucky man to have won the heart of a woman like Cassandra.” She was pleased to see him relax a bit at that, a small, shy smile playing at the corners of his mouth as glanced fondly at his wife.

“Thank you, Estrella,” he said. “I am, indeed, a _very_ lucky man.”

* * *

The two had left Portland that morning without eating breakfast, so as soon as they arrived at their bungalow—three time zones away from the Library--Cassandra and Jenkins ordered a light lunch of salad and a refreshing gazpacho, accompanied by a warm, freshly-baked loaf of crusty bread. 

A little over an hour later, Jenkins unexpectedly found himself standing in one of the Vida de la Luz’s massage rooms, yet _another_ surprise his thoughtful wife had arranged for him. When she had asked him after lunch to get undressed and into one of the thick, soft robes provided for them by the spa, saying that she wanted to give him a thorough, relaxing, full-body massage, he hadn’t expected _this_. No sooner was he changed out of his heavy suit than she whisked him outside and into a waiting golf cart. Thaddeus drove them straight to the massage bungalow where Jenkins now stood nervously.

The room contained two massage tables, each with a small side table holding bottles of various oils and towels. It was pleasant enough—bright and airy and painted a soft, pale lavender color, pots of large green decorative plants scattered around the space. The subtle scent of cedarwood incense was in the air, and soft, slow, ambient music played in the background, ostensibly to relax the spa’s guests. Right now, however, Jenkins was feeling anything but relaxed.

“Cassandra,” he whispered, his tone urgent and tense. “I’m not sure that this is a good idea...” Before he could finish, a door opened and two masseuses entered, one man and one woman.

“Good afternoon!” the athletic-looking woman with short blonde hair greeted them, a warm smile on her tanned face. “My name is Sarai, and this is James.” She nodded at the large, well-muscled man next to her, and he smiled, nodded silently in greeting.

“We will be your masseuses today. If you have any questions or concerns at any time, please don’t hesitate to ask. I understand that you have asked for nude, full-body massages. Some folks are a little uneasy with that, especially if it’s the first time they’ve ever had one.” Sarai’s voice was soft and lilting as she spoke, cultivated to make people feel more relaxed.

“Basically, the massage will take approximately an hour to an hour and a half. You will be nude for the length of the massage, which simply makes it easier for us to access and work all of the muscle groups. If you like, we’ll be glad to cover your midsection with a towel. Please know that we will respect _any_ boundaries you set. If you feel uncomfortable at all with _anything_ we’re doing, please let us know at once. We want to make this as enjoyable and relaxing an experience as possible. Okay?” Sarai clapped her hands together lightly and looked at Cassandra.

“Mrs. Jenkins, I’ll be working with you; James will be working with Mr. Jenkins. Now, if you’ll both please remove your robes and climb up onto the tables, we’ll begin!” The two masseuses moved to their tables and prepared to get to work. Cassandra began to remove her robe, but stopped when she noticed Jenkins, frozen, pale and wide-eyed.

“Jenkins?” she asked, puzzled. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” He turned panic-filled brown eyes onto her.

“I… I… I can’t do this,” he whispered, slowly backing away from the three people now staring at him in puzzlement. His chest felt tight and numb, no matter how many breaths he took or how deeply he tried to breath. He suddenly felt as though he was suffocating, the walls seeming to contract around him, making him feel as though he was being buried alive. He felt the irresistible urge to _run_, anywhere—he just had to get away from _here_.

“I’m sorry! I...I can’t!” He turned and fled the room, almost crashing headlong into the glass door. Cassandra stared after him, stunned, while Sarai and James exchanged silent glances. They’d both seen this happen before. Mortals were so uptight and insecure when it came to nudity. They rolled their eyes behind Cassandra’s back and began replacing the materials they’d just prepared for use.

* * *

Cassandra, wearing only her thin flip-flops and her robe, burst out of the massage bungalow and looked around frantically for Jenkins, but she could see no sign of him. Thaddeus, not expecting them to be done with their massages until much later, had left right after dropping her and Jenkins off, so now she was stranded; she’d left her cell phone back in their bungalow. 

She was furious with Jenkins after having to make profuse and embarrassed apologies to the two masseuses, but she was also worried about him. He had run out of the bungalow like a scared rabbit, something she wasn’t used to seeing in the normally stoic, unflappable immortal.

Not knowing where else to go, Cassandra began running in the direction of their quarters, but it was difficult to run in the flip-flops while keeping her robe closed. She was so focused on Jenkins and on not flashing any of the other guests as she ran that she didn’t even see Estrella as she rounded a stand of palms. Cassandra collided with the vampire, knocking her to the ground.

“Omigod! Estrella! I’m so sorry!” the redhead yelped as she hurried over to help her friend up. “Are you okay?” Estrella brushed off her long flowing skirt and nodded her head.

“Yes, I’m all right,” she replied, straightening her clothes and adjusting the bangles on her left arm. “But why are you running? Is something wrong?” Cassandra sighed and quickly described what had just happened in the massage room with Jenkins. As the Librarian spoke, Estrella could see the distress in her friend’s blue eyes, could hear the frustration in her voice. Sensing that there was something deeper here, she reached out and took Cassandra’s hand, squeezed it.

“Come with me, _hermana_,” she said. “Let’s have some tea and talk, shall we?”

* * *

“Sometimes I just don’t know what to do with him!” Cassandra blurted, then took a sip from her cup of hot green tea. She looked across the small wrought-iron table at Estrella with guilty eyes.

“I mean, I _love_ Jenkins more than anything, don’t get me wrong! It’s just that…” The young woman hesitated.

“It’s just that sometimes you just want to strangle him?” supplied Estrella, a glint of humor in her dark eyes. Cassandra sighed heavily and gave the immortal a lopsided smile.

“Yeah, I guess so,” she admitted, then waved her hands in exasperation. “It’s just that…he has so much…_baggage_! From his past. It’s so frustrating for me sometimes, because it’s like trying to cross a minefield! I _never_ know when I’m going to step on something, or when I’m going to trigger some bad memory for him or dredge up something awful from his past. Something _I _think is totally harmless ends up being a total crisis for him. And then _I_ feel like the most awful person in the world because I couldn’t see it coming. Sometimes I get angry with him for being so sensitive, then I get angry with _myself_ for being so _insensitive_!” She placed her elbows on the tabletop, buried her face in her hands and heaved another deep sigh.

“What should I do, Estrella?” she asked, dropping her arms again. Tears were starting to build up in her eyes. “I just wanted to surprise him with a nice vacation away from the Library, that’s all! He’s done so much for me, I just wanted to do something nice for him for a change…and now I feel like the worst person in the world!” She couldn’t say anything more as a large lump blocked her throat. As Cassandra began to play distractedly with her teacup, Estrella let them sit quietly for a few minutes, letting her friend’s words sink in. She then took up the teapot and poured some fresh tea into the upset woman’s cup.

“I think you should let me talk to him,” she said, setting down the pot. Cassandra shook her head.

“Oh, no, Estrella, I didn’t mean for you—“ she started to protest, but Estrella cut her off.

“I know that,” she said kindly. “But I want to help you, as a friend.”

“It wouldn’t do any good,” the younger woman persisted. “He’ll never open up to a stranger.” Estrella reached out and took both of Cassandra’s hands in hers.

“I think I’d still like to try,” she said, squeezing Cassandra’s fingers reassuringly. “Granted, I’m not as old as he is, but, perhaps he’ll be more receptive to me than you think—one immortal to another?”

“I don’t know,” said Cassandra, uncertain. “Maybe.”

“You wait here then,” Estrella instructed her as she stood up from the table. “Have some more tea, bask in the sun for a bit, relax for a while. I’ll go and talk to him.”

* * *

Estrella frowned as she hurried along the walking path toward Cassandra’s bungalow, her brows knit together with both concern and irritation. It hadn’t really surprised her when Cassandra first told her that she was madly in love with this immortal human. And Estrella had clearly seen his love for Cassandra in the old man’s eyes when he swooped in to catch her and carry her off to the hospital the last time they were at the spa.

It didn’t surprise her, but it _had_ saddened the vampire a little. She understood that Cassandra was perhaps taking on more than the Librarian realized by becoming involved with Jenkins. Estrella had seen such pairings before over the centuries, and they all ended badly. Immortals did indeed have a great deal of ‘baggage’, as Cassandra called it; it was inevitable with those who lived over the course of countless mortal lifetimes. Mortals simply had no way to understand how much damage every one of those lifetimes did to an immortal’s soul—the endless cycle of destruction and loss, seeing everyone and everything they love die and fade away, again and again. Estrella had even known some immortals to go mad because of it.

The vampire pressed her lips together as she walked. Even if Cassandra was incapable of fully understanding what she was getting into with this man, Jenkins most certainly did, and _he_ should’ve dissuaded Cassandra. He should have told her that it was impossible for them to be together, that Cassandra should go and find love with another, with one of her own kind. He shouldn’t have selfishly allowed himself to fall in love with her, let alone _marry_ her! How could he be so stupid? As least Estrella could have made the Librarian immortal, made it a level playing field between them. What on earth did Jenkins hope to gain from this doomed relationship? How could he be so thoughtless and cruel, keeping Cassandra from happiness with a mortal that she could grow old with, instead of saddling her with an immortal who plainly carried a multitude of unresolved issues? The more Estrella thought about it, the angrier she became.

A few minutes later, she was standing at the door to Jenkins’s and Cassandra’s bungalow. She took a moment to let her anger cool, then knocked. She received no answer. Cassandra had assured her that Jenkins, in such a state of undress, would’ve gone straight back to the bungalow, but what if he had decided to go somewhere else on the grounds from here, perhaps even back to the Library? Surely he wouldn’t just abandon Cassandra like that! Estrella hesitated a moment, then tried the doorknob, found it unlocked. Taking a quiet breath, she entered the bungalow.

Once inside, she took a quick look around the front room and spotted the Caretaker’s suit jacket still draped neatly over the back of an armchair. _Good_, she thought, relieved. _At least he’s still here_.

“Mr. Jenkins?” she called out tentatively as she began to make her way through the bungalow. “Mr. Jenkins? It’s Estrella! Are you here?” Her vampiric senses—once used for hunting potential prey long ago—told her he was nearby. She noticed that the bedroom door was closed and went to it. She knocked lightly.

“Mr. Jenkins?” She heard a faint stirring on the other side of the door, followed by a ragged sigh.

“Come in,” a deep, tired-sounding voice called. Estrella opened the door and slipped inside. Jenkins, still wearing his robe, was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking utterly dejected. As soon as he saw her, he stood and anxiously adjusted his robe, pulling and cinching it even more tightly around his body to make certain he was covered.

“I know why you’re here, and I apologize,” he murmured, his voice full of contrition, his eyes on the floor. “Cassandra went to so much trouble for us, you graciously provided these accommodations for us, and I reward you both by being a complete jackass.” The woman came closer and looked up into his face, her irritation with this man overcome now by concern. She felt instantly that there was no ill-will in him or intent to harm anyone. She felt also that Jenkins was just as overwhelmed by the unique burdens and stresses of his relationship with Cassandra as the Librarian was. Estrella wasn’t prepared to let him off the hook too easily, however. She took a deep breath and exhaled it quietly.

“On that point, we agree,” she said tartly. “Cassandra is worried about you. What happened?” Jenkins, still unable to raise his eyes, pulled himself upright. Estrella thought he was going to speak, but in the end he remained silent. She could tell he was reluctant to talk, could sense his fear, but she could also sense an intense desire _to_ speak. She reached out and very lightly touched his upper arm.

“They say that confession is good for the soul,” she said lightly, peering up at him. “I think I’ve heard more confessions over the centuries than an entire cathedral full of priests!” A tiny smile came to Jenkins’s lips. His troubled eyes flicked up to meet hers briefly, then dropped again immediately, but he remained silent. Estrella bent over and tilted her head so that he _had_ to look at her.

“I’ve also observed that sometimes it’s easier for one to tell a difficult story to a stranger than it is to tell it to a loved one,” she coaxed. “Especially if one is afraid that the story will make the beloved think less of one?”

Jenkins breathed deeply and rubbed a nervous hand over his mouth. He _wanted_ to talk to her, very badly, but something continued to hold him back. She tried again.

“I am _very_ discrete, Mr. Jenkins. Anything you wish to say will stay strictly between you and me, I promise that,” she said softly, almost in a whisper. “Cassandra will never hear it from me.” Jenkins finally raised his head and looked directly into Estrella’s dark eyes. A quick, cold thrill went through her as he stared intently at her, as though he was searching her very soul for any sign of deceit. After a few seconds he blinked, breaking the spell. He sat down on the bed and patted the spot next to him, inviting her to sit as well.

“The truth, in part, is that I’m..._uncomfortable_…with being unclothed in front of others. Because of my scars,” he said hurriedly as Estrella seated herself, referring to the many scars his ancient body bore. “I’m afraid I carry the marks of many battles, many accidents. Torture.” He again dropped his eyes at the last word. Estrella listened and watched his face intently, content to let him speak at his own pace.

“I’ve found over the years that people are not prepared for their...severity. I’ve found over the years that they tend to react badly, especially in these modern times when such severe disfigurement is rare. I’ve learned to keep them hidden from view as much as possible.” He fell silent, clasped his large hands in his lap, feeling awkward, self-conscious. Estrella let the silence rest between them for a moment before she spoke.

“Is that why you wear so many layers of clothing, why you wear long sleeves, even in warm climates like we have here in South Carolina?” she asked quietly. Jenkins nodded. Estrella waited another few moments.

“May I see?” she asked, making her voice sound as neutral as possible. She thought at first that he was going to refuse, but then he unclasped his hands and raised his left arm. He pulled back the sleeve of his robe to reveal a ghastly mass of scar tissue that stretched along the top of his forearm, from his elbow almost all the way down to his wrist. It caught Estrella completely by surprise. With a tremendous effort she fought back the instinct to look away and to gasp, kept the revulsion she felt from her face.

“Oh, Mr. Jenkins; I am _so_ sorry!” she said softly, forcing herself to look at his mangled flesh. “How did this happen?”

Jenkins lowered his sleeve, then shared an abbreviated version of the torture he was subjected to that resulted in the scar, how he had been accused as a witch in the Seventeenth Century and was taken into custody by Matthew Hopkins, the so-called English “Witchfinder General”. He left out the gruesome details of his ordeal, especially the part where he was repeatedly abused sexually by his captors, only telling her about how Hopkins had used rats as a torture device, allowing the starving rodents to feast on his arm for the sheer enjoyment of watching him suffer.

As Estrella listened to the awful story, her own memories of persecution returned to her, and a flash of anger rose up in her against the mortals of this world—vile, petty, intolerant, _hateful_ creatures, the lot of them! She and her family had also suffered greatly from the humans’ hatred and fear after they were turned, but Jenkins was far older even than she; the heavens only knew how much pain and suffering he’d been made to endure through the centuries at the hands of these savage monsters! Suddenly, Estrella remembered Cassandra, and was forced to revise her opinion that _all_ mortals were little more than superstitious, disgusting beasts.

“Does Cassandra know this story?” she asked. Jenkins nodded his white head.

“Yes,” he replied, a tinge of emptiness in his voice. “I told her everything. And still she loved me.” He raised his head and stared straight ahead, focusing on nothing.

“I’ve told her about all of the scars I bear—except one.” Encouraged by Estrella’s kindness and lack of disgust at his disfigurement, he decided it was safe to tell her about the secret he’d been keeping from his wife.

“Estrella, may I share that story with you?” he asked. “I thought I could just keep it to myself, so much time has passed since it all happened. But...I can’t. It...weighs heavily on my soul, too heavily. It refuses to stay buried.” Estrella nodded and put her hand on his knee.

“Yes, I do understand,” she said. “Please, tell me.” Jenkins swallowed nervously. A voice within tried to warn him against sharing such a thing with the vampire. Eve Baird knew this story, but she was family, the voice said; she was a fellow soldier, she could be trusted. Estrella was a stranger, an outsider, an unknown. He almost gave in to the voice, but suddenly he pushed the warning voice away.

“May I show you another scar?” he blurted. Estrella nodded, and Jenkins turned on the bed so that his back was to her. He loosened his robe and let it slip down to reveal the grotesque tangle of long, brutal scars that criss-crossed his entire back. Estrella’s eyes closed against the sickening sight, her hand rising to cover her mouth in shock. Jenkins heard the tiny gasp that managed to escape her, and quickly pulled his robe up over his back again.

“More torture?” she whispered, opening her eyes and dropping her hand as he turned around again on the bed to face her.

“Yes,” he said. “But Cassandra knows only a tiny part of the story in this case. I told her that I had been captured as a prisoner of war and sold into slavery, that I had tried to escape but was recaptured and punished. And that is all true.” He paused for a moment.

“What I did _not_ tell her was that after I was whipped I was left outside, in the wintertime, still tied up at the whipping post.”

“Wait,” Estrella interrupted. “Where did this take place? When?”

“Ah, forgive me,” he answered. “This was in the Ninth Century. I was captured while fighting the Saxons in England. I was put into chains and sold into slavery to a Dane. When he wasn’t raiding, he ran a large farm; I was taken to Denmark to work his land.” Jenkins’s face darkened as he remembered again the day he’d been held down and forcibly tattooed with his master’s hateful mark of ownership.

“Was he...cruel?” asked Estrella hesitantly, shuddering at the idea of being another person’s property.

“He was a savage!” Jenkins spat with contempt, his deeply-seated hatred for the long-dead Viking barely contained. “We were nothing but animals to him! He raped and killed a woman one night, another slave. _I_ killed _him_ for it, split his head open with his own axe. Afterward, I ran away, but his sons caught me, had me lashed until the snow was covered with my blood and flesh! I lost so much blood that I—_an immortal_—lost consciousness!” He caught himself, however, and quickly tamped his temper down.

“They thought I was dead. They left me chained to the post as a warning to the other slaves,” he continued, more calmly, though he still seethed with anger. “I was left to hang there until I rotted. But of course, being unable to die...” He shrugged and let the sentence fade, unfinished.

“What happened when they realized that you weren’t dead?” asked Estrella timidly. Jenkins snorted and smiled mirthlessly.

“I wasn’t there long enough for that to become an issue,” he answered, bitterness in his voice. “I was rescued, by a Guardian of the Library.” An expression of surprise crossed the vampire’s face, and Jenkins went on to explain, his voice low and hard.

“By an incredible stroke of luck—or perhaps ‘fate’ is better word—the Guardian at the time was in the area. She passed through the village where my master lived, a few days after I was whipped. She saw me hanging from the post, she knew right away that very few _mortals_ could survive such inhumane treatment. She made inquiries, went to the sons and offered them a large sum of gold for me, and the Vikings agreed.” He smiled grimly at the memories.

“Ah, so then you were saved and freed!” exhaled Estrella with relief, but to her dismay Jenkins shook his head slowly.

“No, I was not,” he said. Estrella frowned.

“But…surely the Guardian…” she began.

“She bought me as a slave, and the Library intended to utilize me as such,” said Jenkins tightly. Estrella’s mouth fell open in shock.

“The Library keeps slaves?” she exclaimed in astonishment.

“Not anymore,” he replied. “In the distant past, yes—just as nearly _all_ institutions at that time used slave labor of one sort or another.” He paused for a moment.

“I thought at the time that if I had not been an immortal, Charlene would’ve simply ridden on without a second thought and left me to die there in that godforsaken place,” he continued sadly. “But as it was, the Library saw an opportunity and seized upon it: A slave who would never grow old or weak or die, a slave who could serve it and future Librarians for millennia to come.”

Estrella sat and gaped at the old immortal for several seconds, horrified. She’d heard mostly good things about the Library and its Librarians. She was having trouble absorbing this new, dark information about an institution that was supposed to be a beacon of goodness and the Light of Knowledge for the world.

“But…_how_…?” she stammered. “How could the Library have treated you so? You are Galahad of Camelot, you are…!” Jenkins held up one hand to stop her.

“I told Charlene only that my name was Galahad, it was a common name in those days. She didn’t know that I was a knight of Camelot, not at first,” Jenkins said. “Once I understood what the Library was, I was afraid that if it knew my true identity it would expect me to act as an ersatz Guardian, some sort of special ‘hired gun’. I was still enough of a knight in those days to find the idea of becoming a mercenary degrading and repugnant.”

It tool Estrella several moments to absorb the story the Caretaker had just told her. She could scarcely believe it.

“But, you are free _now_, yes? Why do you stay with the Library?” she asked. Jenkins looked at her with melancholy eyes.

“Yes, I _was_ eventually freed—but only recently. Just in the last few weeks, actually,” he sighed. “Eve, the current Guardian, threatened the Library with resignation—and the dire consequences of that—if it didn’t give me my freedom right then and there.”

“Good for her!” exclaimed Estrella fiercely. She was beginning to feel sorry for Jenkins and was beginning to regret her earlier opinion of him. Her mother had told Estrella more than once over the centuries that while vampires had suffered many indignities and injustices at the hands of humans, they had always been a free people. The idea of being the property of another was so repugnant to her kind that a vampire would gladly end their own life before submitting to such a state of existence. Estrella’s smooth brow wrinkled.

“Why didn’t you run away from the Library? Were you kept in chains?” That made Jenkins chuckle.

“No,” he replied. “It was a little over twenty years before I trusted them all enough to tell them who I really was, you see. Judson and Charlene, the Tethered Librarian and Guardian at the time, I mean. I belonged to the Library, so _they_ were unable to give me my freedom. I understood by then that Charlene rescued me the only way that was open to her at the time—by buying me with the Library’s gold that she was carrying at the time for expenses. It wasn’t as if she could just run to the bank and make a withdrawal from her checking account in those days, after all.” Jenkins adjusted his seat on the bed, turning his body to face Estrella.

“Judson and Charlene, they were always kind to me, even if the Librarians weren’t always so. They may not have been able to give me my freedom, but they gave me everything else—an education, a purpose for my life, a safe place where I could be myself, where I could be an immortal, without having to constantly hide it from others. They ordered the Librarians to give me the freedom to come and go from the Library as I chose.” He leaned over a bit and peered intently into her black eyes. “And I took full advantage of that freedom, I assure you!”

“So you _didn’t_ stay, then!” she said. Jenkins shook his head.

“Absolutely not! With my new education, I foolishly thought that I could make a place for myself in the world. I was like teen-aged boy again, I left ‘home’ and never looked back! I spent the next couple of centuries or so trying to find my own way amongst mortals. Failed miserably, though.” Estrella smiled sympathetically. She remembered how difficult it had been for her to adjust to immortality as well.

“And so you went back,” she finished. She was surprised when he again shook his head.

“No, actually, I didn’t, at least not willingly,” he confessed shamefacedly. “It took me a very long time to realize it, but I eventually came to understand that the Library was the only place where someone like me could go and have any kind of a ‘normal’ life. But I was too proud and stubborn to go the Library, hat in hand, so to speak, and submit myself to it.”

“But, then how...?” asked Estrella, her brow furrowing in bewilderment. This man’s story seemed to have as many twists and turns as a bowl full of spaghetti!

“It was just after one of the Crusades, I can’t remember which one, exactly, but it was towards the end of that whole disturbing mess,” he replied sourly. “I had seen too much death and devastation caused in the name right by then, so much pillaging and raping and outright cruelty and murder done by men who claimed to be knights.” He shook his head sadly.

“It was too much for me to bear any more, so one day I just—walked away from it. I hung up my spurs and just drifted from place to place, mostly in the Middle and Far East.” A wry smile came his lips at the memories.

“I spent most of my time in taverns, trying to numb myself with wine, women and song,” he continued, wistful and self-recriminating at the same time. “Of course, one needs money for those pursuits—a great deal of it. Hiring myself out as a mercenary suddenly didn’t seem so degrading.” Jenkins dropped his head, overcome with shame, his voice barely above a whisper by then.

“Eventually, I was introduced to opium and…well… I think you can imagine the rest.” He paused for a moment to regain his composure. He looked up and met Estrella’s solemn gaze.

“That’s when Charlene found me again and brought my sorry arse back to the Library,” he said crisply. “Bless her, she’d come looking for me, wanted to make sure I was all right. It took her _months_ to follow my trail of debauchery. I’m amazed to this day that she was able to find me at all.” He was quiet again for a moment.

“She convinced me to come back to the Library with her, to work there and help them with the mission of the Library—after first helping me to recover from my addictions to wine and opium,” he said. “She helped with my training, helped me to settle in at the Library. She even convinced Judson to create the position of Caretaker just to accommodate me. And everything she did for me, she did it without judging me. I owe her great deal.” A look of despondency came to his face as he looked away from the vampire.

“_Owed_, I should say,” he murmured.

“She is gone now?” asked Estrella gently, and Jenkins nodded.

“Three years,” he said. Estrella reached out and placed a fine brown hand over his pale calloused one.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Jenkins,” she said, squeezing his fingers. After a moment, she squeezed his hand again. “And now you have Cassandra.” A small smile came to the old man’s lips.

“Indeed I do,” he agreed warmly, turning his hand over to give hers a gentle squeeze. “And she is the light of my life now!”

“_La luz de su vida_!” echoed Estrella playfully in her native tongue. “The light of your life!” Jenkins raised his head high and peered down his nose at her.

_“¡Sí, Señorita Estrella; ella es el sol que aleja la oscuridad en mi alma!”_ he replied, in almost flawless Castilian Spanish.

_“¡Maravilloso, Señor Caballero!”_ she laughed as she gave him a nod of approval. “’_The sun that drives away the darkness in your soul_!’ Your Spanish is very good, though perhaps a bit flowery for these modern times. My mother would’ve been thrilled to hear you speak like that, though!” Jenkins smiled, pleased with the compliment, then he became more serious.

“That reminds me—I never had a chance to say so before now, but I’m _very_ sorry for your losses, Estrella,” he said sincerely. “I know that for people like us, to lose beloved family members can be especially difficult.”

“Thank you, Mr. Jenkins,” she said, dropping her eyes as her voice caught in her throat. “It is still very difficult sometimes. But, Mamá always taught us to look for the good in everything, even in the most difficult of circumstances. I like to think that in _this_ circumstance, the good is that I have found two very good friends to help fill the void left by Mamá and Tomás.” She looked up and smiled at the quizzical look on Jenkins’s face, and gave another squeeze to his large hand.

“You and Cassandra, of course!” she finished brightly. He gave her a lopsided grin.

“I’m not sure how much of a good thing knowing _me_ is,” he rumbled. “But Cassandra is _very_ fond of you.” Estrella broke out into tinkling laughter.

“And I know how fond she is of _you_!” she said teasingly. “We’ve shared a lot of girl-talk about you!” She laughed even harder at the panic-stricken look that came to the old knight’s face. She hurried to reassure him.

“Don’t worry, she hasn’t broken any confidences, and she’s had only good things to say about you.” Estrella became serious again.

“Now, I have to confess something to you, Mr. Jenkins,” she said, looking down at the space between them on the bed. “I was very disappointed when Cassandra told me that she was going to stay with the Library after her surgery. And I was very disappointed when she told me that _you_ were a large part of the reason why.” Estrella paused a second and then looked up to meet his gaze.

“I know that she truly loves you, very much; I hear it in her voice every time she says your name,” she went on. “She was _so_ excited when she called to tell me that the two of you were going to marry, she talked so fast that I could barely understand her!” The vampire reached out to grasp his forearm.

“I do not doubt that you love her, Mr. Jenkins, but—“

“You wonder why I would bind myself to a mortal woman,” he said. “You wonder why I didn’t try to talk her out of this foolish infatuation and convince her to find a mortal to love and make a life with.” Estrella gaped at him, silent. He laid his hand over hers.

“I tried, Estrella, believe me, I tried,” he said sincerely. “More than once I tried to turn her away, but she refused to let go of me. Then, one night, after a particularly heartfelt talk on that very subject, we ended up being..._intimate_ with one another, and there was simply no going back for me. I knew then and there that she was the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.”

“But that is impossible, Mr. Jenkins!” Estrella said, aghast. “You _know_ that!” Jenkins raised his head and brought a hand up to rub his chin.

“Perhaps, Estrella, perhaps,” he replied. He suddenly dropped his head to fix her with a steady gaze. “But I will not let that stop me from _trying_.” The vampire stared at him, confused, as she tried to figure out what he meant. Her dark eyes widened as it suddenly came to her.

“You...you mean to make her _immortal_!” she breathed, stunned. “But..._how_?” She snatched her hands away as a thought came to her, and she glared angrily at him.

“_You want me to turn her for you_!” she hissed. The old man looked at her blankly for a moment. His expression then changed to a scowl of dismissal.

“What? No!” Jenkins growled. “No! No, of course not! I would _never_ ask that of you!” He sat straight up and stared down at Estrella, pricked by the accusation.

“Cassandra is a Librarian, I remind you, and as such she must be able to work in daylight as well as darkness!” he said in an affronted tone. “How could you even _think_ that I would do such a thing!”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Jenkins,” Estrella answered, chastened. “It was just the first thing that came to mind, that’s all; how else can she be turned into an immortal?”

“I’m working on that,” he said, placated. “I have several ideas, but none of them are particularly pleasant, I’m afraid. They’re all exceedingly dangerous, potentially fatal, in fact.”

“And what does _she_ say about this idea of yours?”

“_She_ doesn’t know about it yet,” the knight confessed. “And I’d rather not get her hopes up, not until I can figure out a way that isn’t so fraught with danger.” He leaned forward slightly to fix Estrella’s eyes with a stern glare.

“And I don’t _want_ her to know anything about this until then, either!” he rumbled warningly. She met his gaze unflinchingly, and the vampire held up her hands.

“I will say nothing, Mr. Jenkins,” she assured him. “What you share with her is your decision, but I do think you should share with her the story of the Viking and of your enslavement,” Estrella said earnestly, going back to the original topic of their conversation. “Tell her the _whole_ story. She will not think any less of you, I promise you—though I think _you_ already know that.” Jenkins gave her a startled blink.

“That’s not why I haven’t told her about this,” he replied stiffly. “I never told her because I wanted to protect her!”

“Protect her?” said Estrella, confused now. “Protect her from what?”

“From the darker side of the Library,” he answered. Seeing the young immortal’s bewilderment, he went on to explain. “Cassandra found a home in the Library, a family. Like me, she found a place where _she_ can be herself, openly and freely. She found a place where she can finally be happy, feel safe and secure—just as I did. She has positively _blossomed_ since becoming a Librarian, and I don’t want anything to take that away from her.”

He went on to give Estrella a synopsis of what had happened two years ago with Nicole Noone and the alternate timeline of the Library, how the Library itself had turned on them, tormented them, destroyed their love and trust in it. Estrella listened intently, shaken by what she heard. Cassandra had _never_ mentioned this ‘alternate reality’ to her.

“¡_Dios mío_!” she gasped, still reeling from his tale. “How on earth can you still be associated with something that can just turn on you like that?” Jenkins smiled grimly.

“That wasn’t the Library’s fault,” he said. “It was the consequence of our own failure to act in a timely fashion. We never should have listened to Nicole or Mr. Dare. We all _knew_ that the Library could function perfectly well with multiple Librarians, yet we disregarded our own good judgement in the matter. We _knew_ that Eve had to tether with a Librarian by a certain date, yet we kept putting off the decision. While it’s true that Miss Noone was the driving force behind much of it, we _all_ had part to play in it as well.” Jenkins paused for moment, then squared his shoulders as he sat up straight.

“But, back to my original point,” he said. “I want to protect Cassandra from as much unhappiness as I can while we’re together. She already harbors some mistrust of it because of what happened in the alternate timeline; I felt that if she heard the whole story of how _I_ came to the Library, it might cause her to doubt the beneficence and goodwill of the Library even more, cause her to fear it again. Which, in turn, would cause her to be unhappy.”

The two immortals sat in silence for several minutes, each digesting what had been said so far. Estrella raised her dark head and looked at Jenkins.

“I still think you need to tell Cassandra your story. The _whole_ story,” she said thoughtfully. “Perhaps you have heard the saying that a half-truth is the worst kind of lie?” She reached out to take his hand between hers. It was a curious mixture of soft skin and rough callouses, much like her own father’s hands had been.

“I know that sounds a bit hypocritical coming from a vampire who secretly runs a ritzy holistic spa, but…one of the reasons we called this place ‘la vida de la luz’—the Life of Light--was because…we wanted to _help_ people, help them to leave behind whatever darkness they found themselves in at the time in their lives. Illness, usually, but other conditions as well.” She turned her gaze away from Jenkins to look out of a window, at the flowers growing outside, their lush blooms bobbing lazily in the breeze.

“Before we were turned, my family helped others,” she said. “We were wealthy, and we felt we ought to share our good fortune with those who were less so. We founded a hospital, an orphanage, we provided food for those who were hungry, clothing for those who had nothing.” She smiled at the distant, happy memories.

“After we were turned, we weren’t able to do so much anymore, being restricted to the nighttime hours as we were, but we did what we could. Even Tomás. Once others found out the truth about us, though, we had to flee for our lives, running from the very people we had helped! Can you imagine?” She turned back to Jenkins and saw empathy in his dark brown eyes.

“We had to leave Spain,” she continued, her musical voice soft and distant. “We feared for our lives every day and it took a great toll on Mamá. After Papá was captured and—“ Her voice cracked and she fell silent for a moment. Jenkins laid his other hand over hers.

“We heard about the New World and decided to go there,” she continued as soon as she found her voice again. “We would go to this fresh, new place, where no one knew us, and start again. But leaving our homeland—our extended family, our friends, everything that we knew—it was hard for us, especially for Mamá. The struggles were harder than we had anticipated, it took the will to live from her, she wanted to end her life.” She waved a hand around the room.

“So we came to this place and, well, you know the rest. When the sun rose that day and nothing happened, Mamá determined that it was a sign that we should _not_ give up, not yet. That we should live our lives in the sunlight, come what may—_una vida de la luz_! A life of light, not darkness. So we settled here, built a house, made a home here.” She laughed softly.

“Though we have built _several_ houses here, actually, over the past three hundred years!” Jenkins smiled as he listened. Estrella grasped his hand tightly.

“My point, I suppose, is that you should do the same. Live your life in the light, Mr. Jenkins, hide nothing from Cassandra,” she urged. “I know you carry a great deal of darkness within yourself; it is inevitable with us, no? But I think you have more than your share. Let Cassandra _truly_ be the sun that drives it from your soul. She can take it, she is _strong_! She lived with Death for many years and even it could not dim her light!” Jenkins sighed and heavily nodded his head in agreement.

“Yes, she is,” he said quietly, still holding onto her hand. “And everything you’ve just said, I already know very well; Eve Baird has told me essentially the same thing. I know that you’re both right, I need to talk to Cassandra about it, but I’ve been putting it off. Sometimes, poor thick-headed creature that I am, I guess I just need a hard shove in the right direction.”

“Then consider yourself shoved!” laughed the vampire. She patted his hand and then stood up.

“Now, if you will excuse me, I have to prepare things for our dinner this evening—I want things to be just right for the happy couple! You will go to see Cassandra before then?” she asked, looking pointedly at the old man. After a moment’s hesitation, Jenkins again nodded.

“Just as soon as I get dressed,” he promised. He then stood and looked down into her black eyes. “Thank you, Estrella, for being not only a good friend to Cassandra, but for your kindness to me as well.” Estrella moved forward and slipped her arms around the large man’s body to hug him tightly. Jenkins returned it with affection before he even realized it.

“_De nada, osito_,” she said in a teasing tone. Jenkins stepped back and looked down at her, his brow furrowing.

“_Osito_?” he asked, looking down at her through narrowed, amused eyes. “’Little bear’?” Estrella stared back boldly, her eyes sparkling.

“My nickname for you from now on!” she said breezily, then turned and swept from the bungalow before he could say anything else.

* * *

As soon as Jenkins was dressed, he went in search of Cassandra. Guessing that she couldn’t have gone far in a robe and flip flops, he began his search at the massage bungalow and worked his way out. His long legs carried him quickly over the distance; soon enough he soon found the quiet garden where his wife was sitting on a bench beneath a large magnolia tree, looking small and forlorn. A table nearby had two used teacups and a fat teapot scattered on its surface. Jenkins hurried over to her, calling her name as he went. When she heard his voice, she stood up quickly and turned to him, her face anxious.

“Jenkins!” she cried with relief as he wrapped his long arms around the small body of his wife. “I was so worried! Did Estrella find you?” He stood back and took her face between his large hands.

“She did, indeed,” he said reassuringly. “And we had a very good conversation.” He paused for a moment as he looked into her blue eyes.

“Cassandra, I am so sorry for what I did earlier. I just...I suddenly felt very anxious and fearful, and I panicked.” He bent to kiss her forehead softly, then took her in his arms again. “Can you forgive me?”

“Of course I can!” she said against his chest. She gently pulled herself out of his embrace to look up at him with worried eyes. “Jenkins, what happened? Will you tell me?”

He took a deep breath as he took her hand and led her over to the bench. When they were seated, he turned to face her, still holding onto her hand.

“I was partly afraid to let the masseuse see me naked, because of my scars,” he said bluntly. “I was afraid of what his reaction was going to be. I was afraid of questions or comments that I couldn’t possibly answer.” He paused and dropped his eyes, as if steeling himself. He looked up again.

“And, the _entire_ truth be told—I was also partly afraid because...I also had a bit of a flashback to when I was..._mistreated_ by Hopkins’s men. I was simply afraid.” Surprised by his candor, Cassandra merely sat quietly for a few moments before responding to this admission. In her excitement planning their retreat, she had completely forgotten about the time Jenkins was tortured by Matthew Hopkins in the 1600’s. Suddenly his reaction in the massage bungalow made perfect sense.

“Omigod, Jenkins, _I’m_ so sorry!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t even _think_ of that part of it! No wonder you didn’t want him to touch you! I’m so sorry, sweetheart, how could I have been so stupid!” She squeezed his hand and brought it up to kiss the back of it, then laid it against her cheek. Jenkins tilted his head and gave her a questioning look.

“What do you mean, ‘that part of it’?” he asked. Cassandra looked at him, her eyes full of apology.

“Well, I know how shy you are about people seeing your scars,” she explained. “So when I booked our massage sessions, I asked specifically about that, if any of the staff had a problem with it. They assured me that everyone had experience with working on people with all kinds of scarring, even people who’d been badly burned in fires. They said everyone would be very sensitive to your feelings and do everything they could to make you feel comfortable. I should have said something to you before we went for the massages, but I wanted it to be a surprise.” The redhead sighed. Jenkins’s broad shoulders sagged slightly as he listened to her speak.

“Except I was so worried about the _physical_ scars that I totally forgot about the _psychological_ ones,” she finished, her voice filling with emotion. “I’m sorry!”

“I overreacted,” he said quietly, sincerely touched by her thoughtfulness regarding his scars. “I wasn’t thinking. I should’ve realized that massages would be part and parcel of any spa experience. And I know that you would never knowingly put me in a position where I would be humiliated or ridiculed by others. _I’m_ sorry for not trusting you, Cassandra.” The young Librarian smiled wryly at her husband as she brought his hand down to her lap and held onto it with both of hers.

“We’re sure a sorry pair, aren’t we?” she commented dourly. She looked up at her husband. “You know, I don’t think that your scars are really _that_ bad.” Jenkins snorted loudly.

“You’re my wife,” he answered. “You see me through the eyes of a wife; I daresay that _you_ don’t even see my scars anymore.”

“Yes, I do!” she shot back with a fierceness that startled him, but there was no anger in her voice. She raised her hand and held it against his face as she stared into his eyes, making sure he paid attention to her words.

“I see them when you shower. I see them when you get undressed. I see them every single time we make love; I see them and touch them! Except for the story behind ones on your back, I know every single scar on your body as well as you do, and you have _nothing_ to be ashamed of! I know you don’t believe that, but it’s true, and I’m going to _keep_ saying it until you believe me! Those scars don’t change the fact that you’re the most handsome man in the world!” Jenkins placed his hand over hers on his face and smiled sadly.

“That’s very kind of you, my love, but…how do you think _James_ would’ve reacted at first sight of my back?” he asked softly, then answered for her. “He would’ve been repulsed, disgusted. He might even have been hesitant to touch me. I’ve experienced it all before, Cassandra; it’s simply human nature to be repelled by ugliness.” Before he had finished speaking, tears began to well in her eyes and she shook her head violently.

“No!” she said loudly. “I refuse to accept that, Jenkins! What if things were reversed? What if _I_ was the one with all of the scars? Would you see _me_ as ugly? What about other people? Would you simply chalk it up to ‘people being people’ and let them get away with treating me like some kind of monster?” Horror and anger flashed in his eyes.

“Of course not!” he barked harshly. Cassandra tilted her head as she continued to fix him steadily with her gaze.

“Then what makes you think I would just stand by and let people treat _you_ that way?” she persisted gently. “If either of those masseuses had so much as smirked at the way you look, I would’ve torn them a new one, right there on the spot! And then I’d have gone straight to Estrella and told _her_ about it! Scars don’t make people ugly, Jenkins, it’s what’s on the _inside_ that makes people truly ugly. ‘Ugly’ is not the automatic opposite of ‘beautiful’, at least not for me. People may be less beautiful than others physically, but that doesn’t automatically make them ugly!” The petite Librarian scooted over on the bench and slipped her arms around him, hugged him tightly to herself.

“You’re _not_ ugly, Jenkins—you’re _beautiful_! You just have some scars, that’s all. Please stop thinking about yourself like that! Don’t let people get away with treating you like you _are_ ugly!” She was almost crying by the time she finished.

Stunned by her passion, Jenkins was speechless for several seconds. His arms crept around Cassandra and he returned her embrace, nuzzling her head. He then gently pushed her back so he could see her face, at the same time digging his handkerchief out of his pocket for her.

“I didn’t realize you felt so strongly about this,” he said quietly, looking into her troubled eyes.

“Well, I do!” she sniffled, dabbing a stray tear from one eye with the handkerchief. “It hurts me to see you so hard on yourself, Jenkins! It hurts me to see you beat yourself to a pulp over things that you have no control over, watch you take all of the blame for stuff onto yourself. I love you, I want you to feel happy and loved and safe! I know you’re still trying to get used to that way of thinking, but still…it hurts to see _you_ hurting. It makes me feel like…like I’m not doing _my_ job, that I’m not being a good friend or a good wife.” Jenkins quietly sucked in a lungful of air, stricken by her words. He pulled her small body in to hold her against his chest again.

“Oh, Cassandra!” he murmured. “You’re the best friend and wife a man could ever dare ask for! I had no idea I was causing you this much pain—please, forgive me, my love!” She responded by sniffling loudly and cuddling closer against his chest. He held her tightly for several minutes, neither of them speaking as they simply comforted each other. Finally, Jenkins dropped his arms and gently moved away from Cassandra.

“I think the time has come for me to share that last story with you,” he said haltingly as he looked down into her small, perfect face. “About the scars on my back. If you want to hear it, that is. If not, I understand…”

“Of course I want to hear it!” she said. “I want to know everything about you, Jenkins! Everything!”

“It’s not a pleasant story, I’m afraid.”

“I don’t care!” she declared vehemently. “Please, tell me!” Jenkins dropped his gaze for a moment, then raised his eyes again, preparing himself. He took her hands in his.

“A long time ago, in the Ninth Century, I was a warrior in the army of King Cadell of Wales,” he began. For the next hour, Cassandra sat and listened, spellbound, to his tale, barely uttering a word as he took her through his capture and enslavement; his life as a slave and his friendship with the doomed slave girl, Aderyn; the Viking’s last assault on Aderyn and his murder of her; Jenkins’s killing of his master, his escape attempt, its failure and the terrible punishment he was given. He told her all about his rescue by Charlene, his continued servitude in the Library, about Eve’s finding of the receipt for the gold Charlene had paid for him and of the current Guardian’s confrontation with Jenkins about it. He told Cassandra how Eve had threatened to resign if the Library didn’t give Jenkins his freedom, about how the Library had immediately given in to her demands and had actually set the Caretaker free, forever.

By the time he was finished, Cassandra was staring at Jenkins, numb and speechless. A range of emotions washed through her in succession: Disbelief, fear, sorrow, amazement. The most powerful, of course, was anger—anger with the Saxons, the Vikings, Charlene, the Library. She shook her head slowly, overwhelmed by what she’d just heard.

“Why?” she asked finally, almost in a whisper. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“Several reasons,” he answered, dropping his head and then turning to look off into the distance. “Shame at allowing myself to be enslaved. Shame for having murdered a man. Fear that if I told you about it that you begin to mistrust the Library again or that it would just be one dark secret too many for you.”

“Bullshit!” she snapped angrily. Startled by the uncharacteristic profanity, Jenkins turned back to her.

“I think you’ve been spending too much time with Mr. Stone!” he chided teasingly, but Cassandra was too worked up for humor.

“I’m pretty sure you didn’t ‘allow’ _anything_ to happen to you, Jenkins!” she plowed on. “And you didn’t murder anyone, you were trying to defend that poor woman and yourself from that…that…_pig_! And how many times do I have to say it—There is nothing you can tell me about yourself that will ever make me give up on you or drive me away! _Nothing_!” Suddenly, both of her hands darted out and grabbed his face, turning it to force him to look her in the eyes.

“You’re always so worried about me trusting the Library completely, but what you should really be worried about is trusting _me_!” she said, pleadingly. “When are you going to trust _me_ completely, Jenkins?”

The immortal gazed into her watery blue eyes and saw the pain that he had inadvertently caused her, and it struck his heart like a dagger’s blade. He raised his hands and laid them over hers, lifting her hands from his face just enough so that he could turn his head freely to kiss the palms of both.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I _never_ meant to hurt you, Cassandra! And you’re right, on every count. And if it makes you feel any better, Colonel Baird and Estrella said almost the exact same things to me already. They even made me promise to tell you the whole story about my enslavement.” He gently pulled her hands down to hold them against his broad chest.

“I know it’s difficult being in a relationship with me, Cassandra, and I never mean to cause you any pain or grief or frustration. I haven’t told you much about my past because I’ve only ever wanted to spare you pain and worry. But it seems that’s exactly what I’ve ended up doing anyway.” Jenkins grimaced as he spoke.

“Then you might as well just go ahead and tell me the stories,” said Cassandra, almost petulant. “I told you before that I want to know everything about you, sweetheart, good and bad! Because all of it, good and bad, has helped make you who you are today—the handsome, sexy, sweet, irresistible beast that I fell in love with almost from the moment we met!” Jenkins blushed at the unexpected profession of love, a bashful smile playing along his lips just before he broke into a rumbling chuckle.

“You certainly have a way with words, my dear,” he said, lifting one of her hands and kissing the back of it affectionately. She smiled back, a certain glow coming into her eyes as she looked up at him.

“I have a certain way with other things, too, you know,” she murmured softly, running one small finger down his chest. “We can start with a _private_ full-body massage; we have _plenty_ of time before we’re due at Estrella’s for dinner.” She ran her hand slowly over his stomach and then his thigh as she spoke, sending a delicious shiver through his groin and belly.

“Satisfaction guaranteed!” she whispered seductively. The top of her robe had loosened just enough for him to see the tempting swell of her breasts.

Jenkins jumped up from the bench and held out his hand, the Librarian grinning triumphantly as he helped her to her feet. He scooped her up into his arms and bent his head to give her a lingering kiss, then proudly carried the laughing redhead along the pathway leading back to their bungalow as quickly as his long legs would take them.

* * *

That evening, Jenkins and Cassandra were seated at a small, elegantly set table in Estrella’s private bungalow, the three of them with a glass of Spanish rioja in front of each after enjoying a wonderful meal together. Estrella had done all of the cooking herself—a delicious vegetable and mushroom paella, accompanied by a simple spinach salad, crusty country-style bread, and a plate of various Spanish cheeses and fruit. For dessert, individual ramekins of _crema catalana_, much to Jenkins’s delight.

Their hostess noticed how much more relaxed the couple were the moment she opened the door for them. They had both obviously followed her advice and had an honest, heartfelt talk that afternoon, and for that she was glad. She also noticed the sly looks her friends exchanged with one another when they thought she wasn’t looking, the way their hands brushed one another every so often. She hid a smile of her own as she quickly realized that the pair had also reconciled their differences in other, less verbal ways.

The dinner conversation was lively and engaging, ranging across a wide variety of topics. At one point over dessert, Estrella looked over at her friend.

“Cassandra, did your husband tell you about his new name?” asked Estrella, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. The Librarian looked up from her dessert and shook her head.

“No!” she said, then turned to look at Jenkins. “What new name?”

“_Osito_!” announced the vampire.

“It means ‘little bear’,” said Jenkins, a tiny hint of pride in his voice as took another spoonful of _crema_.

“That’s the _literal_ translation, yes,” Estrella said casually, a sly smile coming to her lips as she sipped her wine, peering at Jenkins over the rim of her glass. “Actually, ‘_osito’_ is more a term of endearment. I decided, after our chat this afternoon, that I couldn’t keep calling you ‘Mr. Jenkins’; that’s just too stiff and formal. I know you like to present yourself as a fearsome, bad-tempered old bear, you are really quite the opposite beneath all of that snapping and growling.”

“Omigod, _what_ does ‘_osito’_ mean?” asked the Librarian breathlessly, almost bouncing in her chair with anticipation.

“It means ‘teddy bear’!”

Cassandra squealed with delight as she repeatedly slapped the mortified Caretaker’s arm with both hands. She then leaned over to kiss his cheek.

“Ooooooo! My great big squishy teddy bear knight! Admit it, sweetie—it’s perfect for you, you big, soft, cuddly thing, you!” she piped with glee. She leaned in a second time, this time to whisper into his ear.

“And I bet it sounds really sexy, too, when screamed in the throes of passion!” Jenkins nearly dropped his spoon as he sat bolt upright in his chair, clearing his throat nervously and glancing at the giggling Estrella to see if she’d overheard the salacious remark. 

“The two of you have made confessions to me, now I must make a confession to you,” said Estrella as she sat back comfortably in her chair and took another sip of wine, her mischief accomplished. Her dinner companions each looked at her with curiosity.

“I must confess that I am jealous of your husband,” she continued dispassionately, looking at Cassandra with slightly narrowed eyes. “I always hoped that after you recovered from your surgery that you might come back to the spa—and to me.” The Librarian’s eyes flew wide in concern.

“Oh! Estrella!” she began, but the vampire merely laughed.

“Don’t worry, _hermana_, I harbor no resentment or ill-will towards either of you!” she hurried to assure her friend. “Whenever I heard you speak of him, I could tell that you were madly in love with him. I could hear the happiness in your voice, see it in your eyes. And now I hear and see the love he has for you in _his_ voice and in _his_ eyes.” She nodded at Jenkins as she spoke.

“I wish you both nothing but joy and contentment for many years to come! _¡Salud, y amor, y tiempo para disfrutarlo!_” Estrella said as she raised her glass, then translated her toast for Cassandra’s benefit. “Health, and love, and the time to enjoy it!” The vampire saw a deep sadness flit through Jenkins’s eyes as he glanced at his wife. Estrella knew instantly what he was thinking: They would _never_ have enough time. She silently cursed herself for the gaffe. In the meanwhile, Jenkins quickly took up his glass as well, followed by Cassandra, and graciously drank to the toast without comment.

“_Gracias_, Estrella, for everything,” said Jenkins heartily as he set his glass down, the sadness gone as quickly as it had come. “Cassandra and I both owe you a great deal. You will always be welcome at the Library—especially if you ever need to bend the ear of another immortal.” Cassandra nodded vigorously in agreement. Jenkins then raised his wine glass again, and the women followed suit.

“¡_Felicidades_! Happiness to us all!” he offered, bowing his head to their hostess. Estrella laughed again as she raised her glass in acknowledgement.

_“¡Felicidades!”_ the women chorused as they raised their glasses before taking a sip of their wine. Estrella sat up in her chair and set her glass on the table.

“Who would like another _crema_?” she asked cheerily. “I have plenty left!”

“I would!” answered Jenkins eagerly, his brown eyes lighting up like small child’s.

“We shouldn’t stay too long, sweetie,” said Cassandra. “I’m sure Estrella has things to do. And _we_ have an early appointment tomorrow!”

“Oh?” questioned Estrella as she set another small ramekin of golden-crusted _crema catalana_ in front the beatifically smiling Jenkins. A huge grin spread over Cassandra’s face as she reached over to lay a hand over her husband’s.

“We have an appointment for a massage tomorrow morning!” said the Librarian happily as she gazed proudly at Jenkins. She turned to look at her friend across the table. “Full-body _nude_ massages!”

Jenkins nearly choked on his dessert.

“What?!” he yelped, his head whipping around to stare at Cassandra with wide, panicked eyes. his cheeks flushing. His eyes flicked between the two women in embarrassment.

“Oh! Omigosh! I forget to tell you! I made another appointment while you were in the shower getting ready for tonight,” Cassandra said, flustered. “You said you wanted to go back and try again, so I called and booked the first appointment that was open. I meant to tell you earlier, I guess I just forgot! I’m sorry!” Estrella thought Jenkins was going to scold his wife, but suddenly the expression in his eyes went from panic to something else, something like defiance. He reached out to reassuringly pat Cassandra’s hand as sat up in his chair and pulled his shoulders back, raised his head slightly as he looked around the table.

“Indeed!” he said, regal as a king. “Full-body, _nude_, massages. For _both_ of us.”

Estrella laughed and raised her wine glass as she bowed her head in salute to the old knight.

“Welcome to _la vida de la luz_, _osito_!” she said, winking, and drank to him.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thank you for reading and commenting!


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